


Time Marches On

by Scarlet_Gryphon



Series: Scarlet_Gryphon's Sentinel/Guide AUs [10]
Category: Stargate Atlantis, Stargate SG-1, The Sentinel
Genre: Alternate Universe - Sentinels & Guides, Alternate Universe - Sentinels and Guides Are Known, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, M/M, Rough Trade 2018, Time Travel Fix-It
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-30
Updated: 2018-07-30
Packaged: 2019-06-18 12:06:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15485397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scarlet_Gryphon/pseuds/Scarlet_Gryphon
Summary: Atlantis has quickly become the home of the hearts and souls of the Expedition that live there, but when members of the Atlantis Pack has to return to Earth, deciding where home really is may just be taken out of their hands.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Sequel to ['Be Kind; Please Rewind'](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7636378/chapters/17385649). I changed Kavanagh's canon first name because two Peters in the same pairing is confusing. Written for the 2018 'Little Black Dress' challenge over on Keira Marcos' Rough Trade site.

The klaxons in the Gate room blared out their usual warning as the Gate cycled to life, the blue-white kawoosh spilling out before settling back in its usual semi-quiescent state. The iris stayed open, though, as the IDC came through just after the Gate was fully activated. The Gate tech on duty sent the okay to come through and then activated her radio.

“General Landry, sir? The Atlantis contingent is coming through now,” she announced.

“Thank you, Sergeant Alvarez. I'll be right there,” the General replied before signing off. Alvarez watched the event horizon ripple as five of Atlantis' senior staff emerged from the Gate. Colonel Sheppard and Doctor McKay came first, with Doctor Danvers in the middle, followed finally by Doctors Kavanagh and Grodin. All five men wore a curious mix of Earth-made and Pegasus-sourced clothing, with their expedition jackets covering loose soft handwoven shirts and what seemed to be flexible canvas pants that were tucked into their military standard boots.

Sheppard had his P-90 slung casually across his chest, his hands resting loosely on it as he walked. All of the Gifted men had at least one knife visible on them, most strapped to an outer thigh within easy reach in a hardened leather sheath, though Doctor Kavanagh had his on his left side rather than his right, a testament to his left-handedness. Alvarez was surprised to see that even Danvers had a visible weapon on him, even if it was just a sidearm in a thigh holster. They carried duffle bags in their off hands, though McKay was carrying a larger one than the others as it was a shared one between himself and his sentinel.

McKay was talking about something as they went down the ramp, but Alvarez didn't get a chance to hear what he was saying before the General had arrived in the control room. Hank stepped up to the control panel and then hit the intercom button. “Colonel Sheppard, Doctor Danvers. You and your group head up to the main conference room. I'll meet you there shortly.”

Sheppard glanced up at the control room window and then nodded before the group left the Gate room. Hank left the control room and headed to the conference room, stopping by the break room to grab a new cup of coffee before resuming his original journey. He arrived a few moments before Sheppard and the others, only just settling into his chair at the head of the table when the group from Atlantis arrived. At some point, Sheppard had handed his P-90 off to either an MP or had stopped by the armory to drop it off, though he still had his knife.

“General Landry, sir,” Sheppard said, snapping off a sharp salute before he and the others sat down. Hank noticed that Danvers took a seat to Sheppard's left, with McKay on the Colonel's right and Grodin and Kavanagh on the other side of Danvers, keeping the expedition's leader sandwiched safe and sound between the two bonded pairs. Hank couldn't help but feel that they were treating Earth as if it was just another unknown planet, which was very odd indeed.

“It's good to see you all looking well,” Hank said, “especially after everything that's happened while you've been in Pegasus. There are several groups who would like to speak to you, including the IOA.”

McKay groaned. “Really?” he asked. “They can't wait to take their first hit at us? When's the first meeting?”

“Tomorrow morning, I believe. Walter has all the information,” Hank said. “You'll have enough time to rest a little, Doctor McKay.”

“Thank God,” McKay replied, slumping back in his chair. “I am _not_ in the right state of mind to deal with the idiots at the IOA right now, not after a year away from their grubby little fingers.”

“C'mon, Rodney, I'm sure they're perfectly nice people,” Sheppard drawled, earning a snort and an eye-roll from his guide.

“Yeah, and I'm Mother Teresa,” McKay shot back. “Just you watch, John. They're going to be all pissy and petty about so-called unnecessary expenditures and crap like that and you know it.”

“Leave that to me, Doctor McKay,” Danvers said. “General, I apologize, but it was just about three AM Atlantis time when we left. Would it be possible to be shown to our quarters for the time being? I'd rather get to know where we'll be staying until the _Daedalus_ returns to Earth in eighteen days sooner than later.”

“Of course. I'll have someone show you where you'll be staying,” Hank said, getting to his feet. Sheppard and the others got up as well, waiting until the airman that Hank called for had arrived before following them out of the conference room. Hank ran a hand over his mouth as he watched them go, something in him shifting at the way they unconsciously moved and acted as if Earth wasn't their home any more. He had a feeling that the next two and a half weeks would be very interesting indeed, and he would have a front row seat for what would happen.

-/-

Being back on Earth was odd, especially for the four time-travelers, as they'd quickly gotten used to being on Atlantis full-time once more. Atlantis seemed to love having sentinels and guides on her, providing quarters specifically made to suit their specialized environmental and psionic needs, as well as providing a general buffer for them outside those rooms. Earth was loud, both physically and mentally, and the two bonded pairs had to quickly readjust to the constant background noise that humanity and its creations produced, even as far underground as the SGC was located.

Their quarters at the SGC were the standard Sentinel-safe guest rooms, though that was at the bare minimum guidelines as set by the International Council of Sentinels and Guides as most guests either weren't sentinels or guides or didn't stay long enough to need the stronger shielding that some of the long-term residents of the base did. It would be find for the relatively short time they'd be there. If necessary, they could always go to a hotel or the local Sentinel-Guide Center, but that would be used as a last resort.

Nate and Peter settled into their quarters after making sure that there weren't any bugs or other monitoring equipment just in case, knowing that John and Rodney were likely doing the same thing. Peter wrapped himself around Nate once they were ready for bed, tucking his nose into the crook of his guide's neck, breathing in his scent while a white noise generator hummed away to itself in the corner. Their spirit guides-- Nate's barn owl, Arcadia, and Peter's great gray owl, Teagan – were keeping watch unseen outside in the hall, joined by Rodney's badger, Hélène, and John's cheetah, Brody.

Normally, the quarters of the senior members of the Atlantis pride were connected via a large shared common living room, which allowed them to see and interact with one another pretty much every day. It was going to be hard to be away from Radek, Miko, and the others for so long, but two and a half weeks would be over quicker than they thought-- or at least, that's what they hoped.

“Earth doesn't feel right any more,” Nate murmured in the darkness of their borrowed room, half-asleep as Peter gently carded his fingers through his hair. “I don't know if it's because of what we've been through in the past or if because of how much we've changed things since we got back, but Atlantis feels more like home than Earth ever did, and I'm not sure if that's a good thing or not.”

“I think if we give it some time, we might get used to it again,” Peter mused. “Besides, we've only been here a few hours. Sleep, love. We need to sync up with the day/night cycle here and then go to meetings in the morning. Maybe we'll be able to visit family while we're here. You know your parents would love to see you.”

“So would yours,” Nate pointed out.

Peter hummed softly. “I'm sure, but I don't know if we'd be able to get to England and back. I don't think they'll let us use the _Prometheus_ for such a trivial thing.”

“If it means we're not gone for that long, maybe we could make a convincing argument,” Nate said sleepily. Peter smiled at that.

“Go to sleep, Nate,” he chided gently. “We can figure out travel logistics later.”

Nate mumbled something Peter didn't quite catch, snuggling in more before slowly but surely falling asleep, using Peter's shoulder as a pillow. The next morning-- though due to the sharp time difference, it felt like late afternoon to the Lanteans, who had been up for a while talking in one of the quiet rooms set aside for sentinels and guides about what they hoped to accomplish before the  _Daedalus_ arrived –the first meeting started off as boring as Rodney had predicted. Somehow, the IOA had found a team of the most boring and dry accountants on the face of the Earth, gotten them high enough clearance for the Program, and then set them to go through the budget of the Expedition.

By the fourth hour of having to listen to them drone on about the choices that had been made over a year prior, even Peter, with his usual endless supply of calm, was starting to get bored. Nate had started doodling on his notepad by hour three, only setting his pen down when the boredom got to be too much.

“May I ask what the purpose is of going over decisions that were made a year ago and have no bearing on what is going to happen in the future? Atlantis has already set up an extensive trading network amongst our allies, as well as a rather large sustainable farm with crops and livestock pens on one of the uninhabited planets we use as a beta site. The only things we're honestly needing right now are more medical supplies, computers and data storage, and...” He tapped his pen against his notepad as he thought. “Laundry detergent, I think. We have a list somewhere with cost projections for everything.”

“We're here to determine the viability of keeping the Atlantis Expedition in Pegasus, Doctor Kavanagh,” one of the accountants said, folding his hands on the table. “This is only one of the factors that will be considered in the IOA's decision.” He cleared his throat and then picked up the next piece of paper in his seemingly never-ending stack. “Now, as I was saying...”

When the meeting finally ended and the Lanteans were able to escape from that numerological hell, they went to the main mess hall to get something to eat. Once they all had food, they took seats at a table in a corner.

“Well, that was... fun,” Rodney said dryly. “Truly riveting.”

“I'm more worried about what they meant by the budget being only one of the factors in their decision to let us stay in Pegasus,” Danvers replied. “The fact that they're questioning choices we made over a year ago now does not bode well, Doctor McKay.”

“It's Rodney and you know it,” Rodney retorted. He poked at the questionable looking mashed potatoes on his plate. “Is it weird that I'm already missing mashed _rish'av_ root?”

“That's the bright teal stuff, right?” John checked as he cut his Salisbury steak into small pieces.

“Right,” Rodney confirmed. Peter chuckled.

“You just like it because it tastes best with Petrova's Malkasian honey butter,” he teased.

“Do you know how much I have to bribe her to make that stuff?” Rodney asked. “It's more than worth the trip to the Pirosa market to get those almost-hazelnuts she loves.”

“Maybe we should pick up a few pounds of actual hazelnuts for her while we're here,” Nate mused. “And to answer your question, Rodney, yes, it's weird, but you're already weird, so it doesn't surprise me.”

Rodney threw a roll at Nate, who snagged it out of the air neatly and then put it on his plate. “Really, Rodney? Act your age.”

Rodney rolled his eyes before returning to his food. “Anyways, about the IOA. What are we going to do if they say we can't go back?”

“It's illegal to permanently separate sentinels and guides from their pack and/or pride unless absolutely necessary,” Danvers pointed out. “The only way they'd be able to keep you on Earth would be to ship all of the Expedition back via the _Daedalus,_ and even then that would take several trips. We only had enough power to send us through the Gate because of the ZPM they brought us, and that's needed for powering the essential systems on the city.”

The four time travelers carefully didn't exchange glances. Since Elizabeth had never gone on the Expedition this time around, her alternate double had never provided them with a list of planets that had ZPMs stashed away on them. Instead, that honor had belonged to Danvers, though he'd died before he'd been able to tell them about any ZPMs due to a failure in the Ancient stasis pod that had shortened his lifespan considerably.

Rodney still remember those addresses, though, and had quietly inserted them into the list of planets on their 'to visit' list, making sure to sprinkle them throughout the list so no one got too suspicious about them suddenly finding multiple ZPMs in a row. Lorne's team was scheduled to go to Dagan within the next few days; Sergeant Stevens, one of the Marines under Lorne's command, had a major in math, so they weren't worried about them failing the 15-number magic square that would allow them to unlock the ZPM chamber. The reconnaissance teams had long gotten used to calling themselves the Tau'ri and introducing themselves as such, though quite a few people within the city had started using the term 'New Lantean' instead, as an homage to those who had come before, so hopefully the people on Dagan wouldn't turn them away immediately, especially without the interference of the Genii.

“That's true, but do you really think they'll care about that kind of thing?” Rodney asked. “They've already shown that they're willing to contemplate the idea, and I sure as hell don't want to abandon Pegasus, not after everything we've gone through there and the allies we've made.”

“We won't,” John said firmly. He leaned in, lowering his voice. “This isn't exactly the best place to discuss something like this. Maybe we should continue this conversation elsewhere?”

Rodney opened his mouth to say something but closed it when a group of noisy newcomers came into the mess, most of them members of SG teams. “Yeah, you're right,” he agreed quietly.

They finished their food and then gathered up their trays, putting the plates and cups in the correct bins before leaving the room. Before they could return to their quarters, however, an airman stopped them in the hall.

“Colonel Sheppard, Doctors,” she said, giving John a quick salute. “The General has asked that you come up to conference room B. The representatives from the IOA are here.”

The five men exchanged looks before John gave her a small nod.

“Thank you, Airman?”

“Wilkes, sir.”

“Airman Wilkes. We know the way; you can go back to your duties,” John told her. Wilkes nodded, saluted again, and then turned on her heel, looking quite relieved to go.

“Am I really that intimidating?” John muttered to Rodney as they walked through the halls.

“Well, you're an Alpha Prime sentinel and a Lieutenant Colonel,” Rodney said, “which means you outrank quite a few people here, including her, so, yes.”

“Gee, thanks, Rodney.”

“Hey, you were the one who asked.”

John rolled his eyes but didn't say anything more. Nate shot an amused look at Peter as they entered the conference room they'd only left an hour or so before. Three representatives sat in the chairs facing the door: James Coolidge, one of the American representatives for the IOA; Russel Chapman, a British man with a comb-over that did nothing for his looks; and Shen Xiaoyi, the Chinese representative and lone woman of the group. General Landry sat at one end of the table, looking about as pleased as the Lanteans felt to see them there.

“Ah, good, you're here,” Coolidge said. “Take a seat, gentlemen. We have a lot to discuss.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

Radek Zelenka was many things: a scientist, a guide, a husband, and much more. He also wasn't stupid or unobservant, even if his flyaway hair added to the general impression of an absent-minded scientist. For a long time, he'd had the sneaking suspicion that something was going on with Rodney, John, Nate, and Peter. He doubted anyone who didn't spend as much time with the four men as he and the other members of the Sheppard pack did would've noticed the subtle oddities that occurred from time to time, but Radek definitely did.

The smallest things would cause brief flashes of grief and pain to spike in their normally steady emotional profiles, and Radek could never predict what would set it off, though he did see some repeats depending on who was involved. He sometimes would walk in on conversations that would cut off in the middle or catch a glimpse of a piece of paper or an encrypted file before it was hastily put away. He doubted any of them were traitors or planning anything that would cause anyone harm, so there must be something else.

After a while what seemed like a wild theory started to make its way into his mind, though as time went on, the theory stopped feeling so wild and began to seem more and more likely. Obviously, the four men were time travelers. That, or they had somehow come from an alternate reality or timeline. Whichever it was, it had made all of them fiercely protective of the city's inhabitants and the city itself, even Peter and Nate, who didn't go off-world all that often.

Radek had kept his thoughts to himself until Rodney and the others had to return to Earth. None of them seemed too pleased about it, but Doctor Danvers at the very least looked to be the least concerned about going back to Earth for a short while, so Radek didn't think that he'd been part of the time traveling. A few days after Evan and his team had returned with a ZPM that, due to some strict rules Rodney had set down well before they'd ever even stepped foot onto Atlantis, was undergoing an exhaustive series of tests before its existence was officially announced to the SGC, Radek called for his fellow members of the Sheppard pack to meet him in their shared living room once they were all off for the evening.

“Is something wrong, Radek?” Miko asked, giving her guide a curious look as the four of them made themselves comfortable on a pair of couches that faced one another. She held a cup of gently steaming tea cradled in her hands, but set it down on the table to focus better on Radek.

Radek absently ran both his hands through his hair before shaking his head. “No, nothing's wrong, but rather something I've been noticing for a while,” he replied.

“And what's that?”

Radek focused on David before trying to come up with the best way to verbalize his thoughts. “This is going to sound crazy, I know, but I don't think that the Rodney, John, Peter, and Nate that we know are the originals.” He held up a hand to stave off any questions. “Let me explain what I mean. I believe that they are who they say they are, but were not originally from the current timeline.”

“What makes you think that?” Evan asked cautiously.

“Little things that, when added together, do not always make sense,” Radek replied. “Their reactions to certain things or people. Take Ronon, for example, or Teyla. I keep getting flashes of an odd mixture of deep-seated grief and a near-blissful joy from both Rodney and John when they're speaking with them or are merely in their presences. I also question how they knew how the Wraith track the Runners and were able to locate and save them when as far as I know no one had said a word about Runners. The story of them stumbling on an odd set of recurring frequencies and then deciding to figure out what they were about has always struck me as strange. There are others- the Lagrangian Point Satellite being found and repaired so soon, why they avoid some planets and peoples but not others, and so on. Either they're truly psychic or they've lived through a similar timeline as this one and are seeking to fix or prevent its mistakes.”

Radek fell silent, settling back against the comfortable couch cushions as he waited for the others to say something. Eventually, Miko took a sip of her tea before speaking.

“If they truly are time travelers, then they've already prevented the timeline they originally came from from coming to pass. I don't think they mean any harm; from what I can tell, almost every choice they've made has directly benefited either the Expedition, the peoples of Pegasus, or both. Remember when Teyla suggested that we establish a trading relationship with the Genii?”

“Their Gate was blocked in the system, and when we went to check it out with a Jumper from the nearest Gate in that system, we found nothing but a giant crater and lethal levels of radiation,” David said slowly, looking as if he was starting to come around to the idea. “I wonder if they're the ones who woke the Wraith?”

“Maybe, but I don't think we'd ever be able to prove anything,” Evan said. “We don't know if there are any Genii left, and they're the only ones who would be able to tell us what really happened.”

“Are we going to say anything to anyone?” Radek asked.

“I don't think we should tell anyone besides them,” David said. He perked up, a grin on his face. “We could ask them tonight.”

“Uh, David, not to burst your bubble, but they're a galaxy away,” Evan reminded his guide. “We can't exactly do a conference call without everyone knowing.”

David just shook his head, his smile going fond. “Are you a sentinel or not? We can reach them via the spirit plane. Distance doesn't matter there, and it'll be one of the best places to talk securely.”

Evan stared at him for a long moment before laughing and then pulling him into a sideways hug. “You are absolutely right. I didn't even think of that.” He kissed David quickly in appreciation, pleased at his husband's quick thinking. David hummed happily and leaned into Evan's side, soaking up the love and attention he was getting.

“So, should we do it here or in one of the meditation rooms?” Miko asked.

“Hmm. Either would work, but--” Radek was cut off by a knock at the main door. Evan, who was closest, got up and answered it. Ronon stood on the other side, the former Runner looking uncharacteristically nervous.

“Ronon, hey. Is everything alright?” Evan asked, moving back to let the other man in. Ronon stepped inside, glancing over at the others before focusing on Evan again.

“You're Sheppard's _Kyrdesh_ , right?”

“His what?”

“His second in command for those with the Ancestor's Gifts?”

“Oh, his Beta. Yeah, I am. Radek is Rodney's,” Evan said. He gestured toward one of the chairs near the couches. “Come on in and sit down.”

“Thanks.” Ronon took a seat in one of the chairs. “What about Kavanagh and Grodin?”

“Hm? Oh, they're what we call a Dark Guide and Sentinel pair,” Evan told him as he sat down next to David once more. “I'm not sure what you would know that as. They act as... Hm. I suppose you could say they're internal law keepers? They help solve any disputes within the pride.”

“Ah, _Dir'vesh,_ ” Ronon said, catching on. “Yeah, I know what you're talking about. That makes sense.”

“So, what did you want to talk about?” Evan prompted.

“I wanted to ask your permission to court Amelia Banks as my guide. She's one of McKay's scientists.”

Evan blinked, surprised. “You know you don't have to ask any of us,” he said. “You just need to ask her.”

“It's traditional to ask the leader of the guide's pack before asking them,” Ronon explained. “That way I can find out what the best courting gifts would be for her and what things to avoid.”

“I think the best way for you to find that out would be to spend time with her,” Miko suggested gently, “but if you want a good place to start, I know that she likes dark chocolate and comedy films. Oh, and those sour candies from Telash.”

Ronon perked up at that, his smile illuminating his face. It was at times like these that showed just how young the former Runner was; by their rough calculations of comparing the day and year lengths of Earth and Sateda, he would've been roughly nineteen when he'd first been captured by the Wraith for their amusement.

“Thank you,” he said, looking far more relaxed than he had when he'd entered the room. “That'll be a great start.” He got up, brushing off his clothes before leaving with a small wave and a little bounce to his step. Once he was gone, the others exchanged looks before David laughed softly.

“Well, that was unexpected.”

“And yet now it makes sense why Rodney insisted she come on the Expedition,” Radek added with a small smile.

“Speaking of Rodney... Are we going to go to the spirit plane here?” Miko asked.

“Why not?” David said. “We're comfortable and safe, and no one can walk in on us accidentally.”

“You've got a point,” Miko agreed. “Alright, that's what we'll do.” She looked at Radek. “Do you want to lead us in the journey?”

Radek sighed softly before nodding. “Alright. I'll call you there once I contact the others.”

He closed hie eyes and settled in, reaching out for the spirit plane. When he opened his eyes again, he was standing in a clearing in the blue-tinged jungle that comprised the entry area. With a small frown, Radek concentrated, the spirit plane shimmering and shifting to become a replica of the pack's living quarters. There, much better.

He took a seat on the couch he was sitting on in the physical world before reaching out and gently tugging on the pack bonds he shared with his Alpha Primes and Dark pair. There was a brief pause before the four men appeared, all of them looking rather curious to find out what was going on. Much like distance, time didn't really hold any sway in the spirit plane; what felt like hours there could be mere minutes in the physical world, and time differences were non-existent for the most part.

“Radek, everything okay?” John asked. Radek held up a hand.

“Let me get the others first, and then I will explain.”

He tugged on the bonds with the others, letting them know it was alright to join him. Once everyone had arrived and made themselves comfortable-- including their spirit animals, who arrayed themselves around the seating area near their people –Rodney spoke.

“So?” he asked. “What's so important that we needed to come here to talk about it?” He looked at John. “Also, why did we never think about using the spirit plane as a sort of secure intergalactic conference room?”

“Now's maybe not the time, but it is a good idea,” John replied. He looked at the others. “Anyone going to answer?”

“Well, first and foremost, we found a ZPM,” Evan said. Rodney perked up at that, looking very excited indeed.

“Really? Where? How much charge is in it? Have you put it in the city's power receptacle yet? Did--”

Peter laughed. “Rodney, let them answer,” he said as he idly stroked his fingers through his spirit guide's feathers. “We'll find out everything in due time.”

“To answer your questions in order, Dagan, we think it's likely completely full, and no, it's still undergoing extensive testing, just as you ordered,” Miko replied with a fond smile, well used to how quickly Rodney's mind worked after having worked with him for so long. “As for the second issue...”

She glanced at Radek, who shifted uneasily in his chair. When he'd told the others his theory, it seemed relatively plausible, but now... Now he wasn't so sure. After a long stretch of silence, David spoke up, his words coming out in a rush.

“Are you four time travelers?”

It was dead silent after that. Nate was the first one to speak, his tone deceptively casual.

“What makes you ask that?” he asked as he draped his arm along the back of the loveseat he and Peter had claimed as their own.

Radek took in a deep breath and let it out slowly before beginning to recap his observations over the past year, ending with the most recent in regards to Ronon. “And that's about it,” he finished, feeling a little better now that he'd finally aired what had been weighing on his mind for some time. “To be honest, we don't really care if you are or not. As far as we can tell, everything you've done is to ensure that whatever may have happened in the other timeline doesn't happen in this one.”

Nate glanced at the others, receiving a small nod from John before answering Radek. “You're not wrong, though we still don't really know how it happened. Then again, we weren't really going to complain about being given a second chance to fix the massive fuck-ups that had been made the first time around.” He sighed. “For example, Elizabeth Weir was originally the Expedition leader, not Danvers. She...”

He rubbed at his mouth with a hand as he sought the correct words. “She was very strong-minded and set in her ways for a lot of things, and willing to take some insane risks to get her way. Towards the end, she was intensely focused on how the Ancients had managed Ascension, almost to the point of mania. She died due to the Pegasus version of the Replicators.” Nate shook his head. “I admit, I'm rather biased, but I still don't think she was a very effective leader. We didn't know that she was a broadcasting empath then, so that may have had something to do with the distrust I almost immediately felt for her. She was very dismissive of Sentinel-Guide needs then and in this timeline as well.”

“She definitely had her own agenda, but thankfully that agenda will never come to pass now,” Rodney added, and then smirked. “Not unless she can reverse a total empathic nullification set down by the Alpha Prime Guide of North America, anyways.”

“And escape from the high security facility she's in,” John added. He looked around at the others. “You really don't care that we've lied to you for so long about this?”

“If you didn't, you probably would've been shoved in the deepest hole known to man and then either coerced or tortured for any and all information you had regarding the future, assuming it still held up,” Evan pointed out. “We probably would've done the same thing if we were in your shoes.”

There were nods all around at that.

“Definitely,” David chimed in. “Oh, hey, speaking of Ronon, you'll never guess what happened just before we came here.”

“Oh? And what's that?” John asked.

“He came to ask permission to court Amelia Banks,” Miko reported. “Apparently it's traditional on Sateda to ask the leader of a guide's pack for permission before a courting begins.”

John laughed quietly. “Good for him. I'm glad he's finding some happiness. He definitely deserves it after everything he's been through.”

“Agreed. So, how's everything going on Earth?”

The concert of frustrated groans was almost all the others needed for an answer. Rodney launched into the most recent example of the IOA's stupidity-- an attempt to see if they could replace Danvers with one of their own –his annoyance echoed by Hélène's undercurrent of grumbling growls. It was such a familiar sight and sound that, even though they were galaxies apart, it still felt like all of them were home.

 


	3. Chapter 3

Five days before the _Daedalus_ was expected to be back in Earth's orbit, Nate and Peter had managed to get a plane to Seattle while Rodney and John went to Canada to visit Rodney's sister. The IOA had been reluctant to let them go but eventually capitulated because the _Prometheus_ would be able to beam them back to the SGC within mere seconds should the need arise. After they'd landed and got their belongings from baggage claim, it was a little over an hour before they'd made it to Nate's parents' home in a small town that was on the shores of the Puget Sound but still close enough to I-5 and other major roadways that it was easy to get places from it.

There was a small Sentinel/Guide Center that served Edmonds and its neighboring communities, nestled in a quiet area with verdant evergreens and other trees surrounding it on all sides. The Kavanagh house was about ten minutes away from the Center walking distance and half that by car, something that had been very useful over the years, as Nate's two siblings, Rob and Alex, were sentinels, while their parents were a mid-level bonded pair.

Nate chuckled when he saw his mother, Isabel, come to the door mere seconds after they pulled into the driveway. He parked the car and then got out, Peter doing the same shortly after.

“Keeping an ear out for us?” Nate called out, laughter in his voice. Isabel smiled as she came down the short flight of steps that led up to the front door.

“Of course. It's been over a year since we've seen you two in person,” she said, barely pausing in her stride before she'd wrapped her arms around her son. Nate returned the hug, soaking in the familiar warmth of his mother's love and affection for him. Once Peter had gotten his own hug, the two men grabbed their bags from the trunk of the car and then followed Isabel inside.

“Your dad's in the backyard getting the grill ready,” she informed them as they walked, stopping at the guest room to put their bags down before heading out again. “He's determined to get one last grill time before the weather permanently turns to rain for the season.”

Nate shook his head in amusement. “He does that every year,” he said, glad that his father hadn't changed one bit in the time they'd been apart. “How am I not surprised?”

Isabel chuckled. “Yes, well, he's stubborn, but then again, he has to be to have been married to me for so long.”

“Or just very lucky,” Peter chimed in, earning a smile of his own as they stepped through an open sliding glass door and out into the backyard. Nate's father was standing at the gas grill, eyeing the flames critically.

“Charles! Get your butt over here and say hello!” Isabel called out to her guide.

“Just a minute, Izzy,” Charles said distractedly, carefully adjusting the flame on the grill.

“We can always just go back to the airport if you're that busy, Dad,” Nate said teasingly. Charles looked up, a grin forming.

“You got here quick.” He stepped away from the grill, brushing off his hands before going to greet his son and son-in-law. “Your brothers will be here around six for dinner with their families as well.”

Nate perked up at that. It was rare that all three of the Kavanagh siblings were in one place, especially given their jobs. Rob and his guide worked as doctors at Joint Base Lewis-McChord- both were Air Force members -while Alex and his guide had a very successful restaurant in Ballard that was well-known for its delicious Sentinel-friendly food as well as its reasonable prices, a combination that tended to be rare even in a place that was known for its variety of cuisines.

Rob was the oldest, with Alex the middle child and Nate the youngest. Nate had always jokingly complained about having two overprotective older brothers as they grew up, something that neither Alex or Rob really minded. They knew very well that their brother could more than take care of himself, but the biological imperative that almost all sentinels had to protect guides seemed to be doubled thanks to brotherly love and responsibilities. Nate hadn't begrudged them, knowing they meant it out of love rather than any sort of malice.

“That sounds great. So, what's on the menu?” Nate asked. Charles started listing the various vegetables and meats he was planning on grilling, as well as the side dishes that he and Isabel had prepared to go along with them. Shortly after, Nate and and Peter had volunteered their services to help, and soon enough Rob and Alex had arrived with their families, bringing a definite increase of noise and people to the house.

Alex and his husband had eight-year-old twin daughters that they'd adopted when they were six, while Rob and his wife, Mai, had just one son who had turned twelve recently. The moment that Sarah and Kelly saw Nate and Peter, they ran to get hugs from their uncles. Sarah was a latent sentinel while her sister was a latent guide. That had been one of the many reasons why Alex and James had adopted them, as finding appropriate homes for orphaned or homeless children and youth in the S/G community was imperative given their gifts, be they latent or active.

Derek was a guide like his mother and had only recently come online due to puberty kicking in. Nate felt bad for him, remembering his time as an awkward pre-teen and teenager who could feel the emotions of his peers who were also going through the maelstrom of constantly shifting emotions and new experiences that he himself was encountering. Once he was able to extract himself from Sarah and Kelly, Nate hugged Derek as well, relearning his empathic signature now that he'd come online and strengthening the familial bond between them.

“It's great to see you two,” Mai said, giving them a warm smile. “How've you been? It's been so long since we've heard anything from you.”

Peter sighed. “Our workplace is very remote and top secret, thus why we forbid any contact by spirit guide outside of the spirit realm. However, we've recently managed to open up a new way that'll allow us to actually communicate more. Mainly by email and the occasional video chat, but we should be able to visit more often as well.”

“That's great,” Isabel said, sounding pleased at that news. The conversation turned to other things as the food was finished and then taken to the large dining room table. Soon the family was around the table and enjoying their meal and the companionship they found there.

-/-

Roughly 130 or so miles away to the north-west, Rodney and John were sitting at the dinner table with Rodney's sister Jeannie, her husband Kaleb, and their young daughter Madison. At three, Madison was full of mostly intelligible chatter and questions, both answerable and otherwise, and Rodney and John did their best to answer them as much as they could. Rodney had worked to have a better relationship with Jeannie this time around, not wanting the distant one they'd had before.

Jeannie had been slightly wary but hadn't complained, though occasionally she would give Rodney a faintly confused look when they were in the same room and he was actually being _nice_ to her and/or Kaleb. Neither Jeannie or Kaleb were in the S/G community, though Rodney could tell that Madison had the potential to be a sentinel or guide. It was hard to tell with really young children; usually the first hints about which role they would be better suited for came about around six or seven.

Rodney had made sure to tell Jeannie about Madison's status, quietly setting up a scholarship fund for her shortly after so she wouldn't have to worry about paying for school in the future. The paycheck he was earning as a consultant to the SGC was relatively substantial, and though he'd only earmarked a portion of it for the fund, it wasn't like he'd been using it a lot in the past year. Regardless, Madison would likely be able to go to any school she wanted when she graduated high school. He'd be gifting the money to her on her eighteenth birthday, but he was keeping that secret from Jeannie unless it was necessary to tell her.

“So, how long will you be able to stay?” Kaleb asked as dinner wound to a close.

“Only a few days. We were only about to get away for a short time and then we have to head back,” Rodney said before waving off their concerned looks. “Don't worry about it. We've had to deal with some idiots recently, but thankfully it won't be much longer before that's over and done with and we can go back to our regular routine of not dealing with them.”

“You've never been one to stand idiocy for a long period of time,” Jeannie noted, making John laugh.

“That definitely hasn't changed,” he said, shooting Rodney a fond look as he took his hand, loosely intertwining their fingers and then resting their joined hands on the table. “He just has a larger range of vocabulary to use to chew people out. What're you up to now, eight languages besides English in which you can call someone's intelligence into question?”

“I'm working on nine. Nazaryan is teaching me Armenian,” Rodney said with a smirk. “I've got French, Japanese, Russian, Czech, Polish, Italian, German, and...” He tapped his fingers idly against the table before snapping them sharply when he remembered the last language. “Oh, right, Greek. I nearly forgot that one.”

“That's quite a range,” Kaleb said, looking as if he wasn't sure he should laugh or not.

“We have an international range of people at our workplace,” John said, gently squeezing Rodney's hand before laughing. “It can make academic arguments interesting, especially when they _really_ get going.”

“Well, I'm glad you're having fun... wherever it is you work,” Jeannie said before finishing off the glass of white wine she'd been drinking off and on throughout the meal.

“For now, all we can tell you is that technically we work out of Colorado,” Rodney replied. “Classified and all that, but we'll be able to communicate more than we have in the past year now that we've figured out some technological issues we'd been having.”

Kaleb nodded as he got up and gathered up a sleepy looking Madison from her booster seat. “Good. We look forward to hear from you more,” he said as he carefully wiped her face down and then settled her against his shoulder. She snuggled in against him, yawning widely before resting her head against her father's shoulder. Rodney couldn't help but smiling at the simple feelings of safety, contentment, and love he could feel coming from his niece as she and Kaleb left the room.

“You've changed a lot in the past few years,” Jeannie observed. Rodney turned his focus to her.

“Is that a bad thing?” he asked. Jeannie shook her head.

“No, not bad, just unexpected,” she said. “You've relaxed more and actually care about family. Well, fine, not mom and dad, but they never understood you being a guide or anything like that.”

Rodney snorted sharply. “Mom and dad didn't understand a lot of things about me. I don't think they liked the fact that they couldn't fully direct how my future was going to go, especially not when Hélène started showing up after I turned twelve. Mom never liked her. She was a reminder of my status as a guide and yet another thing she couldn't control. It probably wasn't the thing that tipped the scale for the ending of her and dad's marriage, but it probably didn't help either.”

“Don't blame yourself for that, Mer,” Jeannie insisted. “It wasn't your fault. Aunt Elaine told me they'd been having problems well before you were born.”

“Still didn't help the toxicity growing up,” Rodney grumbled.

“Maybe not, but it's in the past,” John said. “You're successful and you did that on your own. They had nothing to do with it.”

“John's right,” Jeannie chimed in. “Neither of them could be bothered to come to either of our weddings, for example. They're not worth it.”

Rodney shrugged at that before leaning back in his chair as much as he could. In the original timeline, his parents had died two years before he'd joined the Stargate Program due to a car accident, but they were still alive in this one and still just as bitter about one another. They were barely in Madison's life, sending her near-anonymous gift cards for birthdays and other holidays. Rodney was determined to be there and support her as much as he could, even if he was a galaxy away.

Kaleb came out at that point, looking highly amused. “Madison wants her Uncles Mer and John to read her a bedtime story, if you're up to it.”

Rodney gave John a surprised but ultimately pleased look before turning back to Kaleb. “Sure. What story does she want?”

“She really likes Winnie the Pooh right now, especially if you do voices,” Kaleb told them. “The book is in her room.”

“Thanks.” John got up, keeping hold of Rodney's hand as his guide got to his feet as well. The two of them made their way to Madison's room and then settled in to read to her, earning a few quiet giggles from her due to the silly voices they did. Once she fell asleep, they quietly left the room, Rodney shutting the door behind him as carefully as he could.

“She's a good kid,” he murmured as they made their way to the guest room. John nodded.

“Yeah, she is,” he agreed, opening the door and stepping inside. Rodney followed him in, closing and locking the door just in case as he didn't want any young nighttime visitors. The two of them settled in for the night, glad that they were able to take a break and make good memories with people they loved.

-/-

Those memories were what helped them survive the last few days before the _Daedalus_ arrived. The IOA had finally decided that they would be sending along a representative of their choosing to oversee the progress of the Expedition, though what, exactly, they'd be overseeing and then judging the Expedition on was left unsaid. The only saving grace was that the representative that had been chosen was Richard Woolsey, someone that the four time travelers knew had the potential to actually be a decent human being, regardless of what his employers usually were like.

“You know,” Peter said as they walked down a hall of the SGC on their way to the main mess hall, “I'd half-expected them to say we couldn't go back at all. This is surprisingly optimistic, all things considered.”

Rodney groaned. “You just _had_ to say something, didn't you?” he grumbled. “You're taunting the Powers That Be or whatever by saying something like that.”

“Don't worry about it, Rodney,” John said lightly. “We'll get back to Pegasus safe and sound, you'll see.”

“Now _you're_ doing it!” Rodney complained, poking at John's side as they entered the mess hall. “Stop it!”

Peter rolled his eyes as he got in line, giving a nod to the kitchen staff on duty when he got up to the serving window. He quickly scanned the selection of dishes, making sure that there weren't any that contained citrus-- or if there were, that they were well contained away from the other dishes with their own utensils – and then ordered his food, grabbing a red jello and a banana to add to his ham and sharp cheddar sandwich, soda, and chips before moving along to pay for the food.

As the first one out of the line, it was his job to find a table for all of them to sit at. Spotting a likely looking one, Peter headed over to it and claimed it, taking a seat and settling in to enjoy his food. The others joined him after a short while, Nate sitting next to him while John and Rodney sat across from them. They were almost finished with their meals when Peter felt the first stirrings of a headache forming.

He rubbed at his temples, grimacing. It felt like some sort of pressure headache, but not one he'd ever experienced before. Peter looked up when he heard an annoyed noise come from John, who looked as bad as he felt.

“John? Peter?” Nate asked, looking between the two of them with worry.

“There's... there's something wrong,” Peter managed, the pain slowly but surely getting worse as his senses started to fluctuate wildly. It felt like a vise was gripping his skull and squeezing tightly while his vision and hearing were switching between entirely off and far too high. John, who had gone pale and rather clammy, nodded tersely, leaning in heavily against Rodney.

“Y-yeah. Feels...” John took in a shuddering breath and let it out slowly. “... like a hammer. My shields... My senses... _Fuck!_ ”

He crumbled against Rodney, his eyes rolling towards the back of his head as he passed out. Peter wasn't far behind, fainting as Nate caught him, the sheer empathic weight of who or whatever was attacking him and John shredding all but their innermost shields like a cannonball through wet tissue paper and exposing them to the sheer unfiltered empathic noise of the SGC as their senses all blanked out, leaving them in a dark void of nothingness.

The effects radiated out to all the sentinels on the base, bringing them down wherever they were. Later reports would show that both sentinels and guides in a half-mile radius of the base felt the echoes of the event, though the worst that happened to most civilians was a sudden sharp headache that faded away after a few hours.

Fearing for their sentinels' safety, Nate and Rodney tucked them into the nearest corner and set up a barricade with their table, not wanting anyone to approach them except trusted medical personnel, and even then that was very conditional. Living in the Pegasus Galaxy for so long with a mortal enemy that favored psionic and empathic attacks had honed their protective instincts to a razor's edge. The two protective guides settled in, the myriad of weapons they habitually kept on their persons ready and able to defend at a moment's notice.

Unnoticed in the kitchen, a figure slipped out a back door after discarding their work clothes in the high-powered industrial dishwasher and then activating it, changing into a set of fresh clothes that would allow them to move through the base unquestioned. They headed to a seemingly abandoned storeroom in a hallway where the cameras were set permanently on a loop of an empty hallway, sliding a keycard that had a false ID on it through the entry scanner. Once inside, they retrieved a small and heavily modified Goa'uld communications device from its hiding space behind a dusty shelving unit.

“Home Base, it's Nightshade. It's done,” they said once the matching communicator on the other end was activated. “Project Pegasus Falling has been put in motion.”

“Good work. Return to your regular duties and keep an eye on the situation. Do not let Sheppard or the others return to Pegasus. We have greater use for a Prime and Dark pair here than a galaxy away.”

“Understood. I'll report in again tomorrow.”

“Good. Oh, and Nightshade?”

“Yes, Home Base?”

“If you mess this up, you won't receive any backup. Understood?”

There was a long pause before Nightshade answered.

“Understood. Nightshade out.”

They turned the communicator off, just barely resisting the urge to throw the device as hard as they could at the wall. Taking in a deep breath and then letting it out slowly, Nightshade replaced the communicator in its hiding place and then slipped out of the storage room. They rejoined the regular flow of the base, which had grown decidedly more hectic with the mass downing of all the sentinels. As they neared the mess hall again, they were stopped by a couple of the base guards ten feet away from the door.

“What's going on?” they asked innocently. One of the guards briefly looked at them before turning his attention back to the task at hand.

“We've got a situation at the moment, Wilkes. Now is not the time for questions. The mess hall is off limits until told otherwise.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

The other guard shook her head. “Not now, Airman. Go back to your post or your quarters if you're not on duty. An announcement will be made when the all-clear has been given.”

Airman Wilkes nodded and then turned on her heel and leaving the mess hall behind. She smirked as she entered the small room that served as her on-base quarters. All was going to plan, and if the Trust had their way, the Pegasus Galaxy and its little Wraith problem would be locked off from the Milky Way for the rest of time, just as it should be. The fact that they would have both an Alpha Prime _and_ Dark Sentinel/Guide pair to play with was just icing on the cake.

 


	4. Chapter 4

The mood in the SGC had become very tense by the time the last sentinel had been gathered up and placed in one of the converted storage room on Level Seventeen. There wasn't enough room in the infirmary for the twenty or so sentinels and all the guides, both bonded and otherwise, in the base, so the medical staff had found the closest and largest unoccupied space and had done their best to set up a triage center there with cots, IV drips, and white noise machines. Until they'd figured out what had caused the mass zone out, it was easier to keep the affected population in one central place.

Janet looked over the room, noting the four guides gathered near the door on guard. All of them were members of SG teams and had zats on hand just in case. Once all their sentinels were settled to the best of the medical team's ability, the guides had done a very odd thing. Doctors McKay and Kavanagh had stripped off their shirts and then sat back to back on cushions in the middle of the floor with their eyes closed, the other guides not on guard duty arranging themselves in a loose gathering around them. One of McKay's and Kavanagh's wrists were clasped by another guide who was in skin-to-skin contact with one of the others and so on, creating a closed circuit of physical connection all around the group.

“Doctor Fraiser? What's going on? Why are half of SG-24 and a quarter of SG-8 and SG-5 not letting me in to speak with you?”

Janet turned to see General Landry standing at the door, Major Arneson looking only faintly sheepish to be refusing her boss entry to the makeshift infirmary. The General crossed his arms over his chest, waiting for an answer. Janet merely arched an eyebrow, entirely unafraid of Landry's posturing.

“They're not letting you in because you're not a sentinel or guide, sir,” she replied. Landry frowned.

“Neither are you,” he pointed out.

“No, sir, but we trust her,” Major Arneson replied, flushing a little at the look Landry gave her, but squaring her shoulders anyways. “She knows how to take care of us, as do the rest of the medical staff in here.”

“And what are McKay and Kavanagh doing?” Landry asked, looking at the two meditating guides.

“Searching.”

“For?” Landry prompted.

“Whoever did this,” Janet said with a small shrug. “I'm not exactly sure what it is they're doing, but they've been doing it for about forty-five minutes or so.”

“They're creating an empathic map of the base,” Major Arneson replied. “Hopefully it'll help narrow down who might be involved in this.”

Landry's frown deepened. “What are they looking f-”

He stopped when he saw McKay's eyes snap open suddenly. Their irises were glowing an eerily actinic blue. The glow was a constant light unlike the brief golden flash of a Goa'uld. He rose to his feet with a surprising grace, absently taking a shirt from one of the other guides and pulling it on over his head. Kavanagh was getting up as well, muttering a thank you as he took his own shirt and clothed himself. When he turned around, his irises were glowing the same vibrant blue as McKay.

“We found them,” McKay said, giving Landry a brief glance before turning to look at the others. “Will you follow me on a Hunt?”

There was a wordless cry of agreement from the other guides. McKay nodded sharply. “Good. Richardson, Donnelly, Amesbury, and... Cortez. You go with Kavanagh. Rook, Schmidt, Georges, and... Nakamura. You're with me. We'll come at them from opposite sides The rest of you, stay here and be our Phalanx. Guard our sentinels. Don't let anyone near them who isn't allowed.” McKay looked at Landry with those over-bright eyes. “That includes you, General. You may be the leader of this base, but this is not a military or even an SGC matter. This is a Sentinel-Guide matter. It's outside your jurisdiction entirely. If you want to take it up with someone, the only people who can countermand me are the Senior Alpha Primes of North America.”

Landry stepped back as the named guides gathered up zats and then stood near Kavanagh and McKay, letting them leave the room once they were ready. Before they left, however, the General couldn't help but speak one last time.

“McKay? I don't care if this is a sentinel-guide matter or not; I don't want anyone in the morgue at the end of all this if it can be managed.”

McKay's toothy grin would've been more at home on a shark's face than Landry was used to seeing on a scientist's, even one on a Gate team.

“Oh, trust me, we have no plans in killing anyone unless absolutely necessary. Where would the point in _that_ be?”

-/-

The states that Rodney and Nate were in could usually only be achieved by Alpha-level or higher guides. Creating an exhaustive empathic map of a place as large as the SGC was difficult to do by oneself, but with the two of them combining their abilities, they were able to narrow their quarry down to one specific floor. They had looked for any major outliers in the base's sea of emotions, and finding someone whose main emotions were a smug sense of satisfaction and pleasurable anticipation set their alarm bells ringing, especially when the rest of the base was tense and on high alert.

The two groups started down opposite ends of the hallway, not wanting to leave any sort of escape route. Rodney made sure to have someone guarding the elevator as well as the nearest escape shaft up to the surface, intent on not leaving anything to chance. After all, if their quarry had a way to affect sentinels _en masse_ , then what was to keep them from having a similar way to stop guides and get past them?

Keeping that in mind, once they had reached the door that led to the room where the empathic signature was coming from, the assembled forces moved quickly with their weapons at the ready, Nate opening the door with a quick swipe of an override key card and then stepping back to let the nearest member of the military, Sergeant Amesbury, entrance. There was a surprised shout before Amesbury was blasted back out ot the room by a red-orange beam of energy, slamming into the wall before landing on the floor with a groan. A shimmering shield of the same color preceded a hand clad in a silver Goa'uld hand device, followed by a stocky female form dressed all in black.

“Airman Wilkes?”

Wilkes' eyes flashed gold as she focused on Rodney, a smirk curving her lips. “ _ **Not quite,**_ ” she replied, her voice carrying the signature reverberation of the Goa'uld and Tok'ra. “ _ **You may call me Nightshade, though you can also call me your goddess or your doom if you want. I won't mind either.**_ ”

Rodney rolled his eyes. “Please, I've seen scarier smiles on Halloween clowns,” he scoffed. “Besides, a parasitic snake doesn't scare me. I live and work in a galaxy where my main enemies try to  _ eat _ me on a near-daily basis. You're like a puff pastry in comparison.”

While Rodney distracted Nightshade, Nate pondered how to get the shield down. Zats and bullets wouldn't be able to get through it, and while he did have several knives on him, he didn't want to hurt Airman Wilkes permanently, even if she was currently possessed by a Goa'uld. He narrowed his eyes thoughtfully before an idea came to him. He let out a huff of laughter before calling out one word.

“Arcadia!”

Arcadia appeared out of thin air, took one look at the situation, and then dive-bombed Nightshade with an eerie screech, talons outstretched as she flew at her. Being able to change her dimensional state at will, Arcadia was easily able to get past the shield and actually make a difference. That inspired the others to send their own spirit guides after the Goa'uld, and it soon became apparent as to why Rodney had chosen the guides he had, because all of them had rather large and/or intimidating spirit guides. Nightshade was eventually brought down when Amesbury's sprit guide, a large and very heavy Burmese python, wrapped himself around her body and let his weight go dead, dragging her to the floor where the other spirit guides piled on to keep her prone as the shield flickered out of existence.

“And that is why you don't piss off guides,” Nate said with a satisfied smirk. “Sentinels tend to go for physical destruction, but guides get _creative_.”

With Nightshade being suitably restrained, they were able to get her ribbon device off her. Arcadia stood by with her sharp beak rather threateningly near her face to keep the Goa'uld from even thinking about using it. Once they had Nightshade properly restrained and then carted off to the nearest Goa'uld-proof holding cell, Nate and Rodney started searching her shared quarters, trying to find anything to explain what had happened to their sentinels. Nothing turned up besides a few missed dust bunnies and a lone sock under one of the beds.

“We'll probably be able to find out more once we question her,” Nate said as some of the others helped Amesbury to the makeshift hospital ward the sentinels were in.

“True,” Rodney said. He ran a hand through his hair before sighing. “Let's go rest. I think... I think we've been holding on to this Trace for too long.”

Nate nodded. “We'll let go when we're safe,” he said, sliding an arm around Rodney's shoulders. “Come on, let's get back to John and Peter.”

The two of them left the room, the other guides forming a protective barrier around them as they went, shielding them from onlookers, both well-meaning and otherwise. Two of the IOA representatives tried to get close, demanding answers as to what was going on, but one glare from one of the larger guides had them shutting up. Only when they were safe and sound back in the makeshift ward did Rodney and Nate let themselves relax, the psionic energy that had been flowing freely through them draining away like water into a hole.

Corporal Rook caught Nate as he passed out while Captain Richardson helping guide Rodney down to an open cot near John. The guides rallied around their Alpha Prime and Dark Guide, blanketing them in comforting but lightweight mental shields as they slept and regained their energy. 

-/-

Nightshade lay on the hard bunk in her cell, arms crossed behind her head as she stared up at the ceiling. She easily ignored the ranting and raving of her host, far too accustomed to the near-constant stream of curses and other insults to be too distracted by them. Wilkes had been an easy target to capture and then take over as a host; rather pitifully so, as a matter of fact. A bit of persuasion with some specialized drugs and soon enough she'd been captured and then Nightshade had taken her as a host. It had felt good to have a host again, especially after so long, and one so young as well. The mission she'd been given had rankled, but Nightshade had figured it wouldn't take too long before she was back in power where she belonged.

Being captured was a setback, certainly, but she was sure she could get out of it somehow. Nightshade wasn't sure how, exactly, however. It would come to her eventually. It seemed that she had plenty of time to think about it now that she'd been captured. She'd been in the cell for quite some time- at least six hours, if not more –and no one had come to visit her. She doubted they'd forgotten about her, especially since they didn't know how their precious sentinels had been and still were affected, but she did find it curious that she hadn't had any angry visitors yet.

Her internal musings were interrupted when several burly guards entered the room beyond her force-field protected cell. They were accompanied by General Landry and Doctors McKay and Kavanagh. McKay glanced at her only briefly before focusing on the general.

“Whatever method they were using to block the Goa'uld's empathic profile is gone. I can almost _smell_ its God-awful psionic stink from here,” he said.

“Will you be able to counter it in the future?”

“I'm an astrophysicist and a mechanical engineer, not a biochemist,” McKay replied with a shrug. “It's likely some sort of drug that's creating a psionic barrier as well as a very strong and specific scent blocker. Have your people start working on it. I'd be more worried about if she's the only Trust agent here.”

Nightshade watched the two of them talk, eventually getting bored and turning her attention away from them. It was clear that they were just playing a power game, and a rather childish one at that. She focused instead on Kavanagh, tilting her head curiously as she looked at him. He just stood there watching her, his face impassive and his arms crossed over his chest, occasionally blinking and breathing but otherwise not moving. He intrigued her. Alpha Prime sentinels and guides had had plenty of studies done on them and the research published, but Dark sentinels and guides, not so much.

They were protected fiercely by their packs, and since they tended to gravitate towards Alpha Prime packs, it was hard to get any sort of concrete information on them. That had been a major reason why the Trust had wanted to capture Kavanagh and Grodin, almost more so than McKay and Sheppard. They were the bigger mysteries to be solved, and if the Trust could either harness their abilities or replicate them, then wiping out the Ori and possibly reestablishing the Goa'uld stranglehold over the Milky Way would be a cakewalk.

“You do realize you haven't won, right?” Kavanagh asked her suddenly, drawing the others' attention as well. “You're far too smug for someone trapped in a cage.”

“ _ **You can't kill me without killing my host,**_ ” Nightshade pointed out. “ _ **Being in this cell won't change that, and nor will it keep the others from trying again, no matter what you do or plan. Besides, you need me to tell you what happened to your ever-so-precious sentinels.**_ ”

Kavanagh smirked. “You may be right about the second part, but luckily we've gotten pretty good at ferreting out snakes over the years. The third part... Well, we've already found the device you used and are working on getting it safely destroyed. I think they're going to toss it through a space gate over an abandoned planet. Thanks for keeping to such a regular schedule, by the way. That helped narrow potential places down a lot. As for the first part, we've got a little surprise for you in regards to that.”

He reached up and tapped the sleek earpiece Nightshade hadn't noticed him wearing before. “ _Daedalus,_ two for transport. Please tell Hermiod to only return Airman Wilkes. I'd suggest a short, cold float for the Goa'uld.”

Before Nightshade could even start to scream a threat at the upstart Tau'ri, her vision was filled with white as she was whisked away from the cell. Three hours later, the _Daedalus_ transported Airman Wilkes down to one of the secure rooms in the infirmary, Hermiod's pin-point beaming delivering the gurney she was secured to right next to her new bed. As one of the nurses unstrapped the soft restraints keeping Wilkes in place, he brushed against the bare skin on the back of her wrist.

Wilkes' eyes snapped open as she let out a pain-filled scream, startling the medical personnel badly. Janet ordered them away from her, watching as the young woman calmed down the further they were away from her. Cursing softly, she grabbed a phone off the nearest wall and spoke into it.

“Get me any free guide with shielding training to Iso Two, and fast!” she snapped. “We've got a newly online guide here in distress.”

She shooed the other medical staff out of the room, telling them not to come back in unless absolutely necessary. It wasn't long before an unbonded guide arrived, looking surprised to see who it was that needed her help.

“Doctor Fraiser?” she said, glancing from Janet to Wilkes and then back again. “I don't understand. I thought being host to a Goa'uld permanently kept people from coming online.”

“You learn something new every day, Captain Harper,” Janet said tensely. “I need your help in shielding her. Nurse McConnor barely brushed her hand with his and set her screaming.”

Harper nodded before stepping into the isolation room, carefully extending her outermost shield to encompass Wilkes' mind. The younger woman sagged back against the gurney in relief, tears starting to escape from her eyes.

“Whatever you just did, thank you,” Wilkes muttered, her voice rough. “I never thought I'd come online like this.”

Harper helped Janet finish releasing Wilkes from her bonds and then transferred her over to her bed. “Don't worry about it,” she said. “I'll help you build your own shields. Until then, I'll stick by you and keep you company, if that's alright?”

Wilkes nodded weakly. “That's fine. I'm Jessica, by the way.”

“Robin,” Harper replied, giving her a small smile. “It's good to meet you.”

Wilkes turned her head to look at Janet. “Am... Am I in going to be court-marshaled for what I did?”

“ _You_ didn't do anything,” Janet said firmly. “That Goa'uld did. We're not going to blame you for what it did. Besides, the device has been taken care of and the sentinels are out of their zones. Most of them are sleeping it off, assuming they're not being stubborn about it.”

Harper snorted softly. “Last I saw, they'd moved all the pillows, blankets, and mattresses into the middle of the room and everyone's in a giant puppy pile. McKay was bitching about his back even as he was using his sentinel as a blanket. No one blames you, Jessica, trust me. Ten to one, you'll get some very protective new friends. The pride here is very close-knit.”

She patted Wilkes gently on the shoulder as Janet deftly inserted a saline drip into the crook of Wilkes' arm, covering the entry point with some medical tape before putting a pulse monitor on her left index finger. “Get some rest; you'll need it. And maybe after you can talk to someone about anything the Goa'uld knew about. Other plans and all that.”

Wilkes bit her lip and then nodded, already sinking back against the pillows on her bed. “Yeah, I can do that.” She paused before looking up at Harper. “Can you tell Colonel Sheppard that I'd like to speak to him and the General once I wake up? I think they should be the ones to know what I do.”

“I'll let them know,” Janet assured her. “Captain Harper is right. You need to sleep and recover. If you need anything, let one of us know, alright?”

“Alright. Thanks, Doctor Fraiser.”

Janet smiled at her and then nodded before turning on her heel and leaving the room. She found the general first, not wanting to disturb John in his much-needed rest. With that done, Janet returned to the infirmary, settling in her office to start filling out paperwork. All the while, she kept a window open on her computer that reported Wilkes' vital signs to her, the gradually slowing and steadying rhythm of her heartbeat a welcome accompaniment to the mundane task. Life at the SGC was certainly never dull, regardless of how often Janet wished for a bit of peace and quiet.

She let out a soft laugh as the thought crossed her mind. Peace and quiet didn't exactly go hand-in-hand with aliens, travels to other worlds, and extra-dimensional beings. If she wanted peace and quiet, she'd quit the Air Force and go open her own practice. Or maybe one day the Goa'uld and Ori would decide to be peaceful and leave Earth alone. Janet shook her head in amusement. Right. Like _that_ would ever happen.

 


	5. Chapter 5

Returning to Atlantis after eighteen days stuck on the _Daedalus_ felt like coming into a blessedly cool house after being outside on a sweltering day. The familiar background hum of the city returning to their minds was a soothing balm. How Colonel Caldwell dealt with being contained in a limited space with continually recycled air and the same blue-white glow of hyperspace that the ship was consistently in, neither Peter or John knew, but then again, Caldwell was a lower-level sentinel than the two of them, so it was possible that he was simply more comfortable with the situation than they personally would've been.

Having the open spaces of Atlantis, the ability to see the water and horizon, and hear the cries of the various seabirds available to them had quickly become vital to the citizens of Atlantis, not just her sentinels. The sound of the ocean lapping against the substructures of the city had quickly become a welcome part of the daily background soundtrack of life, and not being able to hear it, even subconsciously, had added to the sense of unease the four time travelers and Danvers had experienced while on Earth and the _Daedalus._

John, Danvers, and Rodney were almost immediately pulled into different meetings by their various second-in-commands, leaving Nate and Peter to their own devices. As it was just past sunset Atlantis-time, the two of them dropped their belongings off at their quarters and then went to get something to eat, walking hand-in-hand through the hallways to the mess hall. Once they were settled at a small table on the balcony just outside the mess hall, Nate let out a soft sigh, feeling some of the tenseness he'd carried with him since he'd first stepped through the Gate back to Earth finally loosening and falling away.

“Glad to be back home?” Peter asked, giving his guide a knowing smile. Nate let out a soft huff of laughter before nodding.

“Yeah, I am,” he said, relaxing back in his seat. “Earth... I mean, it was great to see everyone again, but I don't think it's really home any more. It was like visiting another country. Things I used to take for granted felt odd after being here for so long. All the worries and cares I had there seem... petty, especially after everything we've been through here.”

Peter hummed softly as he picked up his fork and then cut a bit of his meatloaf off with it. “I understand,” he said. He reached out with his free hand and placed it on top of Nate's, loosely interlocking their fingers. “Pegasus... Atlantis... it feels like we're _supposed_ to be here, and I don't know if that's just the city affecting us like that or if it's something deeper, but we can do real good here and hopefully share what we learn with those back on Earth so the good can spread there as well.”

“I think you've pretty much hit the nail on the head. We may have been born on Earth, but Atlantis is _home_ , and it's damn good to be back,” Nate agreed. He flipped his hand so it was pressed palm-to-palm against Peter's. “Even if the Trust did try to stop us from getting back, the assholes.”

With the information that Airman Wilkes was able to provide, the SGC was able to ferret out quite a few Trust agents and sympathizers from the organization and hopefully keep them from trying to interfere again. Of course, they would still have to deal with the IOA and garden-variety politics, but having one less foe to fight on the home ground would make a world of difference and allow the fight with the Ori to remain their primary focus. General Landry had been very annoyed to find so many people associated with the Trust in his organization, and had ordered a full sweep of the base and of the _Prometheus_ and _Daedalus_ and their crews before either ship left Earth's orbit.

Colonel Caldwell hadn't had a surprise Goa'uld in his head this time around, likely due to the fact that Airman Wilkes and Nightshade had taken up that role. A few listening devices had been found in various places on the base and ships in key locations, with General Landry taking great joy in destroying them after the technicians figured out what frequencies they used so they could monitor them in the future. Landry was intent on being proactive against threats both through the Gate and at home, and wasn't about to let his new posting be taken away from him before he'd truly settled in.

Mr. Woolsey had still been sent along with them to Atlantis, with John privately assigning one of the bonded pairs on the security team to keep a subtle eye on him just in case. The trust they'd had in the prior timeline hadn't been formed in the new one, not yet, so John was going to play it cautious until they got a better feel for this version of Woolsey. The bonded pair had escorted Woolsey to a set of empty quarters in the same hall as their own, making sure he was settled in before leaving him to unpack.

Nate and Peter finished their meal after a while, taking care of their plates and trays before heading back to their quarters. As much as they would have loved to stop by the labs and check on how things were going with the ZPM and all the other various projects and experiments, neither really had the energy for anything beyond going to their quarters, getting ready for the night, and then going to sleep, so that was what they did. They settled in for the night, taking up their usual sleeping positions with Peter's nose tucked against Nate's neck and Nate draping an arm over Peter's torso. Soon they were asleep, drifting off to the hum of the city in the backs of their minds.

-/-

He ran, the scenery blurring around him as he went, though what he was running through or from, he wasn't sure. All he knew was that he had to get away and to somewhere safe. Grasping fingers-- or were they branches ? -tore at his skin and clothes as he went, leaving scratches and torn fabric in their wake. Eventually, he collapsed in a clearing, hitting the detritus-strewn ground with enough force to send shockwaves through his body.

He lay there panting, trying to call up any kind of energy from his reserves, but he was drained dry to run. All he could do was slowly, tortuously crawl over to a tree and then prop himself up against the rough trunk, the bark biting into his back. He didn't care. This was the last place he'd ever see, that much he knew. He closed his eyes, only meaning to rest for a second, but when they opened again, it was to the cool gray light that came just before the dawn.

A dark figure stood in front of him barely two feet away, looking down at him. He couldn't see the figure's face, but he could see it shake its head, a disgusted noise escaping it.

“Pity,” it said, its voice carrying the familiar inhuman rumble of a Wraith. “The chase was just getting good and yet here you are, weak and cowering like an animal.” The Wraith stepped forward, flexing the fingers on its feeding hand as it walked. “You didn't actually change anything important, you know,” it continued on.”You are just as weak, just as vulnerable, just as _human_ as you've ever been. A few circumstances that went differently here and there didn't really do much. A power source found early may seem like an advantage, but what happens when those in higher positions demand it for a different purpose? What will you say when they come to take it from you? Will you refuse them, I wonder? Will it do anything?”

The Wraith had drawn even closer, going to one knee at his side. “What power do you have, what knowledge do you possess, that will truly change the tide of the war? You were losing the last time. What will make this time different? So a few people didn't die and the Tau'ri didn't wake the Wraith. Someone else did, so in the end, that point is moot.”

Its hand shot forward, nails digging wickedly into his chest. “What difference have you truly made?” it asked as it started to feed, its yellow eyes gleaming as the sun rose red and cruel over the horizon “You will lose it all again, and all you've done will mean nothing. You will still fight, you will still lose, and you will still _die_!”

  
  


Nate woke with a start and a cut-off yelp, sitting up sharply in bed as one hand went to his rapidly rising and falling chest to check that it was truly unmarred and whole. He glanced over at Peter to see if he'd woken him up, but his sentinel was still sleeping, looking far more peaceful than Nate currently felt. He got out of bed, being careful not to wake Peter, and then went to the bathroom after grabbing his robe off the back of a nearby chair. He took care of his body's demands, washing his hands once he was done before stepping back into the bedroom.

Nate glanced at Peter's still peacefully sleeping form and then shook his head before going out to the small balcony attached to their room, the doors sliding silently open at his approach. The stars were out in force, the lack of any real light pollution on the planet allowing far more to be seen with the naked eye than ever could be seen on Earth. Nate leaned his forearms against the balcony's railing, closing his eyes as he breathed in the sea-salt laced air and let the cool breeze brush past his face.

He wasn't sure how long he stood there. Seconds, minutes, hours... It didn't really matter to him as his mind kept turning his nightmare over and over, throwing the Wraith's words constantly back at him, its voice echoing in his head. Nate startled when he felt Peter's warm arms wrap around his waist, the faint hum of the city shifting in tone a little as his sentinel stepped out onto the balcony. The shift usually signaled something activating, but Nate couldn't see any changes nearby, so he wasn't sure what, if anything, had happened.

“Couldn't sleep?” Peter asked, nuzzling Nate's shoulder gently. Nate relaxed back into Peter's hold, though it was slightly awkward given their height difference.

“Bad dreams,” he admitted, turning around in Peter's embrace so they could face one another properly. “I can't get my brain to shut up.”

Peter nodded, a thoughtful expression on his face. “I think I can help with that, but first...” He undid the ties on Nate's robe, revealing his bare chest and the sleep pants that comprised his usual nighttime state, and then ran his fingers over his guide's skin, idly tracing a path down his torso before resting his hands at Nate's hips. Peter leaned in and kissed him, first soft and slow, the action meant to soothe and calm, and then deeper once Nate started kissing back.

He slid a hand between the waistband of Nate's sleep pants and his skin, drawing a startled noise from his husband. “Peter, we're out in the open,” Nate half-heartedly protested. “Anyone could see and hear us, even this late at night.”

Peter just gave him a cheeky grin as he wrapped his fingers around Nate's cock, running his thumb over its head in a way that he knew Nate loved. “So, in one of the reports Radek sent me, he said that adding the second ZPM brought up a lot of non-essential systems that had been dormant before because of the lack of power,” he said, watching the blue of Nate's irises start to get swallowed up as his pupils dilated with pleasure as he kept teasing his cock. “Among those systems were privacy shields on the balconies in the living quarters.”

He chuckled softly as his thumb hit a particularly sensitive spot on Nate's cock, making the guide shiver and a quiet moan escape him. “The shields act like a one-way mirror. We can see out perfectly fine, but no one can see or hear us from the outside. It also extends and incorporates the empathic dampening field from the bedroom to the shield here. Apparently Evan and David are a little more adventurous than we previously knew and found it out. They only realized that Doctor Riser was sunbathing completely unbothered on her balcony next door when they were half-way through a Sunday morning blowjob. The city must've put the shield up that first time, but they tested it several time after that just to make sure.”

“How'd you le-- oh, _fuck_ –learn all of this?” Nate asked, his cock now fully hard due to the attention Peter was giving it.

“Miko told me one day when she was reporting in via the spirit plane,” Peter replied, moving on to phase two of his plan and pushing Nate's sleep pants down entirely, baring him to the cool night air. He fetched the small bottle of lube from his own robe and then shed the garment and his own pants letting them fall to the floor as he slicked up his fingers. “She was excited about all the opportunities it would afford her and Radek.”

“I really don't want to think about them while my dick is hanging out,” Nate said as Peter, much to his surprise, didn't resume the hand-job but instead started to open himself up with his fingers. He watched Peter avidly, his attention consumed with his husband's quiet noises and expressions of pleasure. Nate went to stroke his cock, loosely wrapping his fingers around it in an effort to keep it hard, though he didn't have to try all that much given the show that Peter was giving him.

Once Peter deemed himself ready, he directed Nate to sit down on one of the comfortable lounge chairs that they'd managed to find for the balcony, waiting until he was seated before straddling his husband's lap. A quick application of lube to Nate's cock and then Peter was sinking down onto it, bracing his hands on Nate's shoulders as he moved.

Peter leaned in to kiss him, intent on driving the bad dreams from Nate's mind as thoroughly as he could. They hadn't really had a chance to connect like this on Earth after everything had happened with the mass zone-out, only getting the clearance for regular activity right before they'd shipped out on the _Daedalus_. After that, the cabin they'd been given was nowhere near private enough for a bonded pair to have sex, providing the minimum amount of psionic shielding needed for a sentinel or guide to be comfortable and little more. They had agreed to wait until they were back on the city in their own quarters, making do with plenty of close physical contact and kisses.

Nate kissed Peter back, slowly and steadily rocking up into his body as Peter's hips rose and fell to meet him. He let the love he felt for his sentinel flow through him and travel along their bond, one hand drifting from where it had been resting on Peter's hip to encircle his cock, providing something for him to thrust into if he so wanted. As they moved together in familiar but still wonderful patterns, Nate could feel the heartache and worry that his nightmare had caused to build up in him fade and his mind slowed from its jumbled whirl, focusing solely on the wonderful man who had agreed to bond and marry him, much to his continued daily surprise.

His orgasm hit him in slow waves, Peter falling over the edge with him shortly afterwards. They stayed out on the balcony, exchanging kisses and quiet words of love and affection, until a particularly strong burst of wind made the two of them shiver with the cold. After retrieving their scattered clothing, the two went back inside, cleaning up one another before returning to bed, this time without any nightmares to interrupt their sleep.

The next day, the pack gathered in the shared living room to catch up in person and reestablish the proper scent profiles for those who had gone to Earth. Once that was finished and they were all settled in the seating area with drinks in hand and the privacy protocols active, Miko spoke up from where she was resting with her feet tucked under Radek's thigh.

“So, I know you've told us the basics, but would you be willing to tell us anything more about how you came back? What really happened? How did it all begin?”

The four men exchanged looks in silence before Nate sighed. “Well, I guess I can go first.” He took Peter's hand, squeezing it gently. “For me, it started with two words that I'd heard a million times before and never really thought about a lot until then: 'I'm sorry'.”

 


End file.
